Verba Volant, Scripta Manent
by Yuuki no Yuki
Summary: Verba Volant, Scripta Manent; words spoken flee, words written remain. Because sometimes you just want a happy ending. GilbertXViolet
1. Part 1

"The universe is big, its vast and complicated, and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles."

 **~The Doctor ~**

* * *

 _Dear Major Gilbert,_

Violet twirls Olivia's parasol as she makes her way down the old country road. Her assignment is about a mile's off, a small isolated cotage in the woods.

No one has been able to tell her about her client. Even the President has been tightlipped, despite the company policy insuring that they must have included their name when requesting her services.

 _Do you have any news? Are you doing well? Where are you right now? Are you having any difficulties?_

Violet is still suprised that people would go out of their way to request _her_ specificially. She is better with emotions, both others and her own, but she is hardly the _best._

Still, she would complete this assignment to the best of her abilities. Even if she isn't quite sure _what_ her assignment is.

 _Spring, summer, autumn, winter, many seasons have come and gone, but the one with you isn't coming around at all._

After all, that is the vow she'd made to herself, and to Major. That she would live, that she would live _freely_ and nothing is more freeing than this job of hers.

 _At first, I couldn't understand. I couldn't understand anything about how you felt._

The chance to convey the deepest wishes of those around her, to deliver their hearts, to be a part of a sacrad duty, one that moves mountains not with swords, but words, this is her wish.

For in this world without the Major-no, without the Major _beside her_ -this has become her mission. One she does not follow because she was _ordered to_ -

 _But within this new life you gave me, I've begun to feel the same way as you, if only a little, through ghostwriting and through the people I've met along the way._

-rather because she _chooses to._ Like the Major once wished, Violet has finally settled on the thing she _wants._ And while it is not the dresses or accessories he suggested, it is still something all her own.

Violet stops in front of the cottage, prepared to make her introduction, and wonders what the Major would think if he could see her now. No salutes in camouflage, but rather a curtsey in flowing silks.

 _I believe that you are still alive somewhere. So I shall live, live, live and live some more, though there's no telling what life might have in store._

She lifts her head and stops, just for a moment, just a breath, and then she's back. Back to her introduction, with nothing to show for her mistep but the twinkle in her eye.

Part of her wonders if she is broken, truly a doll as so many have called her. For, shouldn't her reaction be larger? But, then, part of her has always expected this-and so the suprise barely registers. How can the truth she's known in her very bones suprise her?

 _And if I can ever see you again, I want to let you know that the phrase "I love you"?_

"Major Gilbert?"

 _I understand it a little bit now._

"Hello, Violet. No, sorry, it should be-

 _Sincerely,_

"-welcome home."

 _ **Violet Evergarden**_

* * *

 _I have returned_

* * *

 **ただいま**


	2. Part 2

"Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today.  
Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed.  
Some days, nobody dies at all."

 **~ Doctor Who ~**

* * *

The day Gilbert Bougainvillea met Violet Evergarden has forever been seared into his memory. She'd been a waif of child with dead eyes and a sickly figure. Yet, child she was, deserving of the love and care owed to all God's creatures.

His brother, however, could not see this. Could not see the diamond for the coal, and so casually and cruelly tossed her his way. And Gilbert was left the only person to see not who she was, but who she could become.

 _You can't treat a child like that! A...weapon? Alright, I'll take her._

He was always giving her orders. From the first moment he'd taken her in to their last; nearly every sentence he'd uttered was _some form_ of an order.

 _You'll catch a cold. You have to use a blanket._

 _You'll be staying here. Don't move until I get back._

 _Violet, don't be a tool. You should become someone who matches that name._

Well meaning enough, true, but orders none the less. Even his attempts to help her improve herself, to gain skills outside the military, devolved into nothing but a series of tasks and the order to complete them.

 _It's well written. From now on I want you to hand in a daily report to help you practice your writing. Understood?_

It was his own fault, he knew. It had started as a tool, a way to get her to move. To react. Slowly, however, it became a crutch. A safe way to communicate with the girl he was slowly falling in lo-

 _There's a thanksgiving tradition here in Matchig to give gifts to those you are thankful to. Violet, is there anything that you want? Tell me something that you want._

-well, in the end he did _try_ to communicate. To get across his feelings. If not with words-she never understood words-then with _actions._

 _It's not an order. I want to express my thanks to you._

He'd thought she'd understood. Even a little, just a bit. She'd chosen the brooch that matched his eyes, after all.

Eyes that she so openly called "beautiful" as if such a word didn't feel like an arrow through his heart. Of course, she hadn't understood, not in the way he'd hoped. And she'd never understand while trapped in the illusion that she was merely a tool.

 _You have feelings! You have a heart, just like me! If you don't...then why are you reacting that way? You're capable of expressions! You're scared of me right now, aren't you? You don't like being yelled at, right? You're angry that I'm being unfair to you?! Stop lying!_

Gilbert still cringed at his reaction. He hadn't been rejected, not truly, but it had felt like a rejection all the same. And worse a rejection not because she did not return his feelings but beacuse she was so utterly ignorant to his feelings, and her own, as to deem them inconsequential.

It tore him in half to watch her live like that. Worse so when he knew it was his fault.

 _I'm sorry. But it's painful for me...to see that you view yourself as a tool. Because I'm the one who made you this way, but you still, you still put your trust in me._

Of course it would figure that the one time she finally got around to disobeying his orders, to thinking for her self, would be the one time he wanted her to _obey._

 _Save yourself! Leave me here! ...leave me here._

He'd never seen that look in her eyes before. Her determination burned him from a distance, gave him courage to say things he'd sworn to take to his grave.

Gave him courage, even, to avoid his grave.

 _Stop! You have to live! Violet, you have to live. Be free. From the bottom of my heart...I love you._

It was a miracle, a miracle in every sense of the word. The blast had knocked him unconscious, had torn his dog tags from his neck and shirt from his body. Had thrown him 20 meters away from the fort and broken multiple bones.

But, it had not killed him.

Miracle still, neither had his wounds. To this day he would always be thankful to those Galdarik doctors. They'd had no reason to treat him and his lack of id tags or an army uniform were perhaps the flimsiest of excuses as to why they could. No, in the end they were simply kind, the best type of doctors, the ones who believed in providing aid to _anyone_ regardless of background.

And so, here he was, nearly two years after the battle of Intense staring down at the letter his brother had sent him (he was the easiest of his family to get a hold of):

 _"I am sure,"_ it read, _"that you are worrying yourself sick over your dog. Don't bother, she is in good health. In fact, her spirits are such that she may yet surprise you, brother. She has taken your advice (yes, she no longer views it as an order, can you imagine?) and is currently employed at the CH Postal Company. I suggest you try your luck there."_

Gilbert's hands shook at the thought. He had always hoped Violet had survived, but he'd never been sure, never had an oppurtunity to check confined as he'd been in the Galdarik hospital. It wasn't until the peace accords had been signed that he'd even felt safe enough to begin making his journey back.

For her to not just have survived, but to have _lived_ as he'd orde-no, asked-her to? This was beyond his wildest dreams. Well, almost, because if Gilbert was being honest with himself (and he did try to be honest) then his wildest dreams were not for her to live, but to live _by his side._

A thought which brought a blush to his cheeks every time he read his brothers salutation.

 _"Good Luck, brother. Sincerely, Dietfried._

 _P.S. Mother approves."_

Well, that was good news. Now he just needed to get _Violet_ to approve.

Hopefully he could hold on to his courage just a little bit longer.

* * *

 _I want to say, "I love you."_

* * *

 **俺は「愛してる」と言たい**


End file.
